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Prologue

Otranto,Italy, mid-September1818

JASONBRENTMOR PUT AWAY THE NOTE HIS sister-in-law had given him. Hisglance swept unseeingly across the blue Adriatic, glistening in theearly autumn sun, and around the stone terrace of his brother'spalazzountilhe met Diana's blue gaze. Then he smiled.

“I'mrelieved to learn my mother hasn't gone soft in her old age,”he said. “Doesn't waste a word, does she? You'd never know shehadn't laid eyes on me in twenty-four years. To her, I'm still thereckless boy who gambled away his inheritance and ran off to livewith the barbarous Turks.”

“Theprodigal son, rather,” came Diana's amused response.

“Indeed.I've merely to creep to her on hands and knees and beg forgiveness,and I and my half-breed daughter will be restored to the bosom of theBrentmors. What on earth did you write her, love?”

“Onlythat I'd met up with you in the spring in Venice. I also enclosed acopy of my new will.” Diana gestured toward the elaborate chessset that stood on a table near her chaiselongue.“The set was yours once.Now it shall be Esme's dowry.”

“Thatwas my wedding gift to you,” he said.

“I'drather hadyou,”sheanswered. “But we spoke all our regrets in Venice, didn't we?And we had three glorious weeks to make up for it.”

“Oh,Diana, I do wish—”

Shelooked away. “I hope you will not become maudlin, Jason. Ireally cannot abide it. We've both paid a high price for ourmistakes. Still, we had Venice, and you're here now. The past isdone. I don't want our children to go on paying for it, as thoughthey existed in some ghastly melodrama. Your daughter needs a properhome and a husband—inEngland, where she belongs. The set's been appraised. It will bringher a large sum.”

“Shedoesn't need—”

“Ofcourse she does, if you want her to marry happily. With the dowry andyour mother's backing in society, Esme may take her pick of eligiblebachelors. She's eighteen, Jason. She can't remain in Albania to beshut up in some Turkish harem. You said as much yourself. Now, justtake her home and make up with your mama, and don't argue with adying woman.”

Jasonknew she was dying. He'd suspected it by the time he left Venice;otherwise, he'd not have attempted a second visit to Italy so soon.In the interval, his golden-haired Diana had faded to a wraith, hergraceful hands so sadly frail, the blue veins throbbing weakly undernearly transparent flesh. Yet she was determined to appear strong.Proud and stubborn, as she'd always been.

Hemoved away from the stone railing and, looking away from her stillbeautiful face, took up the black queen from the chess set. Theminute gems of the elaborately carved Renaissance costume sparkled inthe sunlight. Though the chess set was supposedly more than twohundred years old, it was complete and in fine condition.

Heput back the queen, then moved to Diana's side and laid his handgently on her shoulder. He hated to disappoint her, but he couldn'tlie to her, either. “The Albanians took me in when I hadnothing,” he said. “They gave me a loving wife who boreme a strong, brave daughter. They gave my life a worthy purpose, gaveme a chance to do some good. Now my adopted country needs my help.”

“Ah,”she said softly. “I hadn't thought of that. Your life's beenthere for more than twenty years.”

“Ifit were just the usual thing, I'd not hesitate to leave. I know I'veput it off too long, and that's hardly fair to Esme, as you say. ButAlbania is on the brink of chaos at present.”

Shelooked up at him.

“There'salways unrest,” he explained. “Lately, though, theuprisings show a pattern, as though they were being orchestrated.I've captured a store of English weapons—stolen,it turns out, and smuggled. There's definitely someone behind it,someone of considerable cunning who, unfortunately, appears to havean equally adept supplier.”

“Aconspiracy, Uncle Jason?”

Jasonand Diana turned toward the doorway, where her twelve-year-old sonPercival stood, his green eyes glowing with excitement. Jason hadforgotten about the boy, who had discreetly withdrawn more than anhour ago with the excuse of trying on the Albanian costume his unclehad brought him.

“Gracious,how dashing you look,” said his mother. “And how well itfits.”

“Ihad it made to Esme's size. It's what she usually wears. She's aterrible hoyden, I'm afraid.” Jason ruffled the boy's dark redhair. “Do you know, at the moment, you might pass as her twin.Same hair, eyes—”

“OnlyI was never so scrawny,” Jason answered, smiling. “It'snot so bad for a boy, but most exasperating for Esme. Becauseshe's so small and slight, otherstend to forget she's a grown woman—andshe objects very strongly to being treated like achild''

“Iwish I could meet her,” said Percival. “I like tomboys.The other sort of girls are so ghastly silly- Does sheplay chess?”

“Thenyouarereturning,Uncle? I'm most pleased to hear it. That's what Mama wishes, youknow.” Perched on the wall, his legs dangling over the side,Percival squinted against the sun at the faint line of peaks justvisible on the opposite shore: Albania's coast. “Every fineday,” he went on. “Mama and I come out to wave to you andEsme, and pretend we can see you waving back. Of course, we don'ttell anyone, do we, Mama? Not even Lord Edenmont. He thinks We'rewaving to the sailors.”

“Igot an earful in Venice. He was one of Byron's circle. Left Englandto escape his creditors—andproceeded to cut a swathe through the contessas, not to mention-”Jason recollected Percival's presence. He perched himself on thechaiselongueandwhispered fiercely, “The man's a parasite, a libertine, awastrel. What do you mean'liveshere'?”

“Imean he lives upon my husband.”

“Aparasite, as I said. Hasn't a groat to his name—”

“Thenobviously he must rely upon others, I think of Lord Edenmont asornamental ivy, supporting itself upon an otherwise vulgar and boringpublic building—thatis to say Gerald, and others like him. Varian is very ornamental. Heis darkly beautiful in that brooding way so fatal to fernininesensibilities...andsense.”

Sheglanced at Jason's face and a ghost of a laugh escaped her. “Notto mine, darling. All I feel for him is pity and,occasionally, gratitude. If LordEdenmont has sunk to playing foot-boy to an ailing woman andnurse-maid to her precocious son,